


Should Have Known You'd Bring Me Heartache

by CaptainDashingRapscallion



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Other mutants mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1496182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDashingRapscallion/pseuds/CaptainDashingRapscallion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the current Marvel Now All New X-Factor run. Alternative timeline. Remy/Pietro relationship. Remy dies and Pietro's left to deal with the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should Have Known You'd Bring Me Heartache

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrinceSircastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceSircastic/gifts).



"It was just supposed to be an ordinary battle. One we could have managed with our eyes shut. Nothing we couldn’t handle, something we’d joke about later at Serval…"

  
Pietro’s voice cracked as he looked up from the words he’d written into the sea of faces in front of him. All of them so tragically broken with tears and solemn expressions. His eyes found Lorna sitting in the front row; her hands clasped to mask their shaking and prevent an accident. He swallowed, swiping a hand through his white hair, summoning his strength.

  
"It was all so fast - one minute he was laughing and quipping trash talk at them and then he- then Remy- I-"

  
He broke off, even now unable to face the truth, despite it having been a week. Self-blame and an excruciating hurt lay at the centre of the speedster’s denial, even though he had seen it happen with his own two eyes. His breathing caught and trembled under the emotional strain he was suffering from.

  
"I can’t do this…" he murmured, unvoiced sobs cracking his voice as he spoke. And then, before Lorna had time to get up from her seat, Pietro did what he did best.

  
He ran away.

  
Away from the grieving mutants, friends and family. Away from the sympathetic stares. Away from the church and the sadness and the overbearing sense of grief threatening to embrace him.

  
And away from the truth that Remy LeBeau was dead and never coming back to him.

 

—

 

_"Mmmf, Remy stop, Lorna called us 20 minutes ago. If we’re any longer she’ll drag us out by our zips," Pietro grumbled, though a smirk was plastered across his face as he attempted to drag on his ridiculous Serval-issued uniform. Remy, meanwhile, did his best to hinder the speedster and distract him with kisses and hands obstructing his progress with the suit._

_  
"Don’ be a grouch, Speedy. Cherie didn’ sound so urgent, eh? Remy t’inks yo’ need t' chill an’ enjoy de moment." Remy grinned, stealing another kiss from the speedster, grazing Pietro’s lip with his teeth on purpose, before he finally relented and stepped away._

_  
"I’m not a grouch Remy, just reluctant to piss Lorna off." Pietro huffed tugging at his suit until it was comfortable, trying to ignore the teasing sting of his lip that made him want to chase the Cajun for more._

_  
"And yet somehow you two still manage it with ease. Hurry up and get on the raptor lovebirds, we have a job to do and our record won’t look great if we were late because you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other." Lorna said with a sigh as she arrived in the doorway, clearly bored of waiting for them._

_  
"Desole, cherie. Remy only wants t’ enjoy every momen’ he can wit’ Pietro. Yo’ always welcome t’ share some o’ Remy’s love too. He has enough fo’ de both o’ you." the Cajun teased, receiving a scowl from both the siblings. Their remarkably similar reactions amused him greatly._

_  
"Thanks but no thanks Remy, besides Pietro has a reputation for being terrible at sharing.We leave in five. Hurry it up. " Lorna retorted, before disappearing in the direction of the lift._

_  
"Come on then, Rem’, sooner we get this over with, sooner I can get my revenge for the sharing comment. Last one to the lift buys takeout." Pietro smirked impishly, then dashed off leaving a swinging door behind him._

_  
"Dat cheatin’…" Remy sighed and then shook his head, ensuring all his cats were safe in the room, before he hurried after the siblings._

 

—

His feet passed over pavement, concrete, grass, rubble, barren waste, rock and every land surface in between as he ran away from the people with their haunted stares and solemn expression. He forced himself to keep moving until his legs wouldn't run any further and all he could do was ease himself to sit down on the edge of the rocky ledge he'd come to, dangling his legs over the edge as he stared into the abyss, still and unmoving, all that energy gone.

  
Now that he was alone, he shoved his hands in his hair and screamed out all the agony he was experiencing in a heart-wrenching, hoarse howl. It echoed in the space below his feet, though only the speedster was able to hear it surrounding him and swallowing him in his grief. His hands shook and ripped at his hair, tugging a few white strands away from his scalp and his face contorted and crumpled as his voice petered out to a feeble whimper.

  
But still, Pietro could not bring himself to shed a tear.

 

\--

  
_When the raptor landed them in the middle of a barren field, Pietro had been the first off to scout for trouble. Following the briefing on the plane that was simply summed up to a weird energy signature and multiple body readings, he had been perplexed to find they were apparently alone. He’d signalled the all clear for Remy and Lorna to join him, and once they had, the pilot took off again to put the plane out of harm’s way._

_  
"Somet’in abou’ dis don’ feel right, i’s too quiet here," Remy said, pulling the top few cards off the top of his deck and into his hand just in case._

_  
"Worked that one out already, Cajun, keep up," Pietro grinned, winking at him over Lorna’s shoulder. Remy shook his head at the speedster._

_  
"Can it you two and bicker on your own time, we have a job to do." Lorna huffed, her mind fully on the task at hand which made her more focused and less inclined to the instability in moods she had shown in their down time. She looked around the area, uneasy with the fact that there was no sign of the life signs they were picking up on. Her eyes turned to the sky, sweeping over the clouded blue._

_  
"Stay together, I’ll try to get us an aerial picture. See if I can make out anything from above." she commanded eventually and took off in flight before one of them had a chance to give her a snarky retort._

_  
"So what d' yo' t’inks goin’ on here, Speedy?" Remy asked to fill the wait. Pietro shrugged, standing with his back pressed faintly against Remy's so they had all approach angles covered._

_  
"Ambush probably. Something or someone that’s heard of us. Wants to test us. Or get one of us. We’ve all pissed off plenty of people in our time it could be anything. I just wish they’d hurry it up whatever it is. Waiting is boring." the speedster huffed, folding his arms across his chest as a million suggestions came to him. His eyes flickered to the sky to look for Lorna, to track her progress as she attempted to locate the threat they'd been sent to neutralise. She'd disappeared from view though, which left the speedster unsettled and after a glance at Remy's face, he could tell the Cajun felt uneasy about her not being within view too._

_  
"Pietro! Remy! Get--" Lorna's shout echoed across the comms, before it crackled and she was isolated from them._

_  
"Like I said, ambush," Pietro scowled, bring his hands up ready to fight whatever the threat was._

_  
"Never doubted yo' at all, cher," Remy replied as he took the top card from his deck. Together they stood armed as the landscape in front of them shook and distorted, revealing an awaiting army of red and grey camouflaged soldiers where they had lay in wait. "Yo' did miss dem on yo' seach though." he added with a wink, before his eyes narrowed in a glare, "De Purifier dirt."_

_  
"Screw you," Pietro laughed, shaking his head at the Cajun before he became more serious. He was well aware of the threat these Purifier cults possessed, especially after they_ _had gotten ahold of U-Men technology, allowing them to advance themselves with the best mutant DNA. After all they'd tried to use his before he'd broken out of the facility._

 

\---

 

After he ran from the funeral, Pietro fell off the map for a few days, running from continent to continent to avoid his grief. But even the fastest man couldn't run forever, and so he had returned to Serval Industries, a shadow of the concerned brother who had joined to spy on his sister for her own well-being. Every step inside the building was another memory of the Cajun that flared in his mind, cracking the mask he was using to hold himself together.

  
Boarding the lift Remy had adored because of how Star Trek like it was, Pietro gruffly mumbled the floor for his bedroom, rubbing at his unshaven face and swiping his bedraggled hair from his bruised eyes. Exhausted and drained, all he wanted to do was collapse on his bed and sleep until his pain was manageable and he could hide how broken he felt from the world. Of course, sod's law dictated that Lorna would be waiting there as the lift doors opened; hand on her hip showing sisterly concern in some way or another, though her expression looked sad and pitying.

  
"What do you want Lorna?" Pietro scowled, brushing past her as he headed down the corridor. His voice sounded hoarse and devoid of much emotion beyond tired annoyance.

  
"You've been missing for a few days, Pietro. Don't try to tell me I'm not allowed to be concerned, especially with how concerned you've been over me in the past months. I thought I'd need to send a search party soon, if you didn't come back, but I wanted to give you time first." Lorna replied, following her half-brother to his room.

  
"Well as you can see I'm alive, I didn't do anything rash. I just needed some alone time." Pietro sighed, stopping in the corridor to turn to look at her. "Just give me my space, I'll be fine."

  
Lorna nodded, resting a hand on his shoulder before letting it slip away and heading back to her room. Pietro watched her leave knowing she had no intention of leaving things as they were, but he at least had a night to himself. He turned to head to his room, and then stopped at the scratch on Remy's door.

  
Oliver, Lucifer and Figaro.

  
His eyes closed as his breathing stuttered at the well of emotion that was unearthed. Nothing had been done about Remy's cats. They were still sitting in his room, probably lonely and waiting for the Cajun to come home. Except he wasn't. Steeling himself against the grief he did not want to feel, Pietro headed towards the room, each step slower than the one before it as he dragged his feet. Eventually the cool metal of the door handle was encased in Pietro's hand, and he pushed his way in, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

  
Everything was so Remy.

  
The crumpled sheets thrown across the bed; the absolutely ridiculous mug sitting on the night stand; the walk in closet filled with an alarming amount of pink and the haphazardly thrown clothes littered across the floor. Pietro's eyes scanned the room till he spotted Lucifer prowling near the door.

  
"He's not coming back, Luci, not this time." Pietro murmured, bending carefully to pick up the cat. Lucifer had been the first one of Remy's trio he'd bonded with, and thus was generally a little more amenable to being held by the speedster. This time though he seemed to sense something was off and wriggled to get out of Pietro's grip. Wanting to save himself being clawed to ribbons, Pietro let Lucifer down and padded over to the bed. Rationally he knew he should go back to his own room, stop wallowing and be ready to fight for his job, but he couldn't resist. Shucking off his layers of clothing till he was down to his undershirt and boxer briefs, Pietro fell onto Remy's bed, breathing in the lingering scent of the Cajun. It wouldn't last long, not with a business like Serval who would want the room cleaned as soon as possible, so he found it easy to reason with himself to allow one night of weakness. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift into an uneasy rest, feeling the familiar weight of the cats coming to settle on the bed, curling together defensively, as lost without their owner as the speedster was.

 

\---

 

_Swinging a punch at the latest Purifier goon who had attempted to blast him with one of those flame-throwers, Pietro scanned the battlefield, accounting for Lorna - who was whisking as much weaponry as she could - and then for Remy - who seemed to be playing whack a mole with a group of Purifier insurgents and his Bo staff. Whatever he was doing, it was getting them frustrated and amusing him completely._

_  
"Rem put them out of their misery already, you're falling behind. My count's on 18!" he hollered over the noise of the battle, smirking as he delivered a swift uppercut to the chin of a Purifier targeting Lorna. "Make that 19!"_

_  
_ _"19 yo' say, cher?" Remy clocked one of the mutated Purifiers on the head, and glanced back at Pietro with a grin. Pietro nodded in response, ducking a gun shot, then watched as Remy spun full circle knocking out all the goons he'd been messing with. The Cajun followed the spin of his Bo by drawing a selection of cards from his pocket and launching them forward, body outstretched as he displayed his pure skill in the field. Pietro's smirk turned to a scowl as Remy turned to him with that smirk that clearly showed he was going to trash Pietro's record. "22, Remy t'ought yo' said yo' were fast, Speedy."_

_  
_ _Throwing himself into the thick of the fight, Pietro barely was conscious of time, instead relishing in a chance to move at his top speed; to throw punches at his full force to render his opponent unconscious; to not need to hold back. The forces they were fighting though were overwhelming and their individual voices indistinguishable in their mutant-hating mass. The mantra of 'Die Mutie Scum' was beginning to echo in Pietro's ears, unlocking the rage he tried to keep in check. The rage of his father at homo-sapiens for neglecting to move with the winds of change and forget to accept their fate as outdated genetic deadends. Avoiding a punch from in front of him and delivering a swift set of jabs in retaliation, Pietro didn't see the bat coming until it crashed over his spine, making him stumble. Hatred lit in his eyes and he whirled on the spot, wrenching the bat from his opponent as his back protested at the sudden movement._

  
_"Why don't you just accept your fate, flatscan," he sneered, launching the bat across the Purifier's face.A hideous, sickening crack echoed and the Purifier fell to his knees. "Stop fighting the future, its bored of your pathetic antics." Pietro grabbed the goon by the back of his hat and the bandanna covering his mouth and then swung the bat down, crunching it onto his shoulder, fracturing the bone beneath it, before he threw the bat away and delivered a swift jab to the anonymous face, knocking him unconscious. Dropping him unceremoniously, Pietro glanced up to see Remy watching him with a look of scrutiny, before the Cajun delved back into the overwhelming numbers, throwing cards to disrupt the forces, whilst his Bo staff dealt with his oncoming attackers. Lorna meanwhile was removing any metal based weaponry and turning it on its users to knock unconscious or maim, she wasn't particularly concerned._

_  
Despite the amount of headway they were making, however, Pietro could not help but notice the mass surrounding them didn't seem to be getting any smaller. If anything they were being surrounded by more powerful mutated soldiers and more hi-tech weapons. Tapping his comms, he radioed to Lorna, attempting to get some information, but the connection was still down. They were isolated, tiring and fighting a never-ending battle. Despite their foes being idiotic humans, the odds didn't seem to be in their favour._

  
\--

  
Jolting up in bed, Pietro heaved in air as the last remnants of terror from his nightmare petered away, disturbing the cats who yowled and leapt from the bed. His heart raced as his eyes stared unseeingly into the distance. It was only when he felt a hand laid on his shoulder that he jolted from the place he'd been lost to and realised he was not alone.   
"Wanda. What are you doing here?" he asked huffily, though he couldn't deny that he was glad to see her, even if her reasons for coming would frustrate him.

  
"Lorna called. She was worried about you after..." Wanda trailed off, after all, she did not need to tell Pietro what had happened. Her brother had been right there, and was probably tearing himself apart inside with self-blame.

  
"She has no reason to. I went to clear my head for a few days, I didn't like the stillness of the funeral, I needed to move and just be alone. That's all." Pietro replied defensively, sliding out of the bed to fish his jeans from the floor, leaving Wanda sitting on the edge of it.

  
"So you're not sleeping in his room? Or blaming yourself for his death? Did you even cry yet, Pietro? I know what you're like. It is okay to grieve, brother." Wanda questioned, standing. Pietro closed his eyes briefly to ignore her, and then bent to scoop his t-shirt from the floor, turning back to her as he tugged it on.

  
"I slept in here because its where I've been sleeping for the past few months anyway and someone has to feed the cats now he's... And no, if you must know. I haven't cried. I don't need to. We were just a casual bit of fun, Wanda. It wasn't like I was committed to the guy."

  
Lies. All lies. Pietro loved Remy, and everyone knew it. Everyone but Remy. Pietro never had the chance to tell him. And no amount of 'well he knew you did' would change the fact that Pietro never had the chance to say those three little words with an enormous meaning behind them. Wanda gave him a look, but the speedster ignored it, heading over to the cats food bowl to give them their breakfast before he went to clean himself up and look presentable. If he was going to fool everybody that he was okay, he needed to look like he was okay. He stopped at the door and turned to look at his sister, who watched him with a sad, knowing stare.

  
"I will be fine. I always am." Pietro sighed, his voice showing the hollow tiredness that encompassed his being during every waking moment. He was getting used to the idea of learning to live without Remy and his geeky comments, their tactile relationship and everything that was and came with being with the Cajun. "I will not do anything as reckless as the Terrigan episode. Luna ensured that would never happen again." he added, knowing that her mind would drift towards his more reckless attitudes.

  
Wanda said nothing but walked over to her brother, embracing him tightly, and he knew immediately she believed none of his words. She knew he was a time bomb; it was only a matter of time before he exploded. It was only a question of when and how.

  
\---

  
_Heaving a breath and shaking off his exhaustion, Pietro slammed his leg into the side of a mutated Purifier, before speeding round behind them and delivering a powerful punch to the back of their neck. As they collapsed before him, he took a second to catch his bearings, wiping blood from his ripped sleeve. They had been utterly surrounded, completely underestimating the force they were against. These Purifiers were coordinated, methodical, and worst of all nothing like the rage-infused moron homo sapiens he had encountered before. Someone had turned them into a formidable, weaponised force._

_  
Dashing over to a group of insurgents Pietro raised his arm ready to deliver a punch, ducking under a mass of melted guns thrown by Lorna into a dense group of mutated soldiers. His fist collided in a fierce impact with the first, but two of the other soldiers turned their weapons on him and he ended up crying out in surprised agony as his side seared and crashing to the floor._

_  
"Pietro!" Remy yelled, throwing cards towards the group, being too far away to do any more. They were too thinly spread to be able to stick together given the absence of Danger, Cypher and Warlock. Pietro covered his face to avoid the shrapnel and then hauled himself to his feet._

_  
"I'm okay!" he called back, waving to signal to the Cajun that he was fine, whilst relieving the Purifier's of their weapons. For good measure, he shot the two who shot him in their sides, smirking in grim satisfaction at their cries of pain, before tossing the firearm to the side dismissively. He preferred to use his brute force than ridiculous weapons that weighed him down._

_  
The Cajun offered him a laugh, turning a smile to him as he launched a card beyond Pietro's head to a figure creeping too close to Lorna for his comfort. "Jus' be careful, Remy don' wan' tha' pretty face o' yours damaged, eh?"_

_  
"You really think my face is -"_

_  
But there was no time to finish the sentence as Pietro's gaze noticed the projectile aiming straight for Remy, too fast for even him to get to with the swarm of people between them. So all he could do was scream._

_  
"Remy! Behind you!" he shrieked, his voice pitching higher as desperation and helplessness sunk in. The Cajun knew from his expression that he wasn't messing around and turned on his heel swiftly, his Bo staff slamming away the thrown object at speed. He grunted under the brunt force of it, shifting to his full height, just as the arrow pierced his chest._

_  
Pietro, trapped behind the wall of men who were preventing him getting there, could only watch as Remy's body convulsed, Bo staff falling from his hand and he pitched forward onto his knees. The speedster didn't even realise he was screaming to his partner at his natural speed until the area around him exploded with a sonic boom. The land shook and the soldier's dispersed at this new show of power they had not anticipated, leaving Pietro a clear path to be at Remy's side._

_  
With shaking hands he shifted the Cajun's body so he could examine the damage, quickly drenching them in blood seeping from the wound. Above him, Lorna hovered, using her power to keep the Purifiers at bay while Pietro checked Remy's condition._

_  
"Rem'.... come on you damn Cajun...." Pietro hissed, shaking his shoulders watching for the rise and fall of Remy's chest. But there was none. "Wake up! Damnit stop messing with me!" he snapped, his voice wobbling dangerously as he raised a hand and slapped it round Remy's face, leaving a bloody handprint on his cheek. "Rem... please..." he whispered, his voice begging, pleading, something that in the past he'd refused to bow to, relating it too much to being under Magneto's control. But he would do anything to see the Cajun's eyes open and hear a snarky comment about worrying too much. None came. Remy was gone, too quickly to even try to save him or say goodbye._

_  
Bowing his head to hold back his grief, Pietro laid Remy's body gently on the ground and stood, wiping his hands up his yellow trousers, smearing them with blood._

_  
"Get his body and yourself as far away from here as possible, Lorna. Now." he ordered, his voice low and dangerous, filled with rage and the desire for revenge. His sister knew better than to argue with Pietro in this mess, and she too was grieving for the lost Cajun. She, after all, had been the one to recruit him to the team. Using the metal surrounding them, she fashioned a metal stretcher and lifted Remy's body away from her brother who stood surrounded by Purifiers, unafraid and hell-bent on revenge._

  
\--

  
Weeks past with Pietro appearing to those around him to be moving on healthily and getting on with his life, with little reflection of Remy's death featuring apart from a bit of a cold shoulder towards others. It was only those who stood behind the closed doors of Serval Industries, and in particular Lorna and Wanda, who knew the reality. Pietro was not coping at all. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, and in his hours without a mission either sat in his room staring into the distance with Remy's cats, or sitting on the roof shuffling a deck of cards and staring at the sky. He shunned the company of anyone who even tried to accompany him outside of missions, apart from the rare occasion where he allowed his sisters to spend time with them. They knew it was an attempt to placate them, but they were also well aware of how far from fine the speedster was, which is why they decided together to make the call. Someone needed to snap Pietro out of his half-grief, and there was only one who was capable of doing so.

  
Despite his lost state, Pietro was well aware of his sisters whispering behind his back, scheming some plan or another to attempt to make him sob or cheer up. Both sounded appalling. Leaving Oliver, Figaro and Lucifer behind him in his room with a gentle parting swipe at their fur, he left the room and headed up the fire exit stairs of the building all the way to the roof of the building, using his speed to avoid others finding out where he went. Once through the door, he slowed down, walking to the wall that rounded the edge of the area he was on and perching on it. With a casual glance down at the street below him that he always entertained with morbid fascination, he drew a deck of cards from his pocket, shuffling between his fingers. They were all he had left of Remy; well and the cats. Harrison Snow had ordered the Cajun's room to be cleaned out and boxed into storage when Pietro was out skulking the streets one day, and he'd only just got back in time to claim responsibility for the cats before they were sent away. Needless to say, the few days after left a frosty tension between the speedster and the boss, though neither of them acted on it as Pietro knew Harrison was in charge of his job, and conversely Harrison had seen the damage the speedster had left in his wake after Gambit's demise and was wary of the new unpredictability.

  
Shifting the cards between his fingers, Pietro felt the rage inside him quieten once more. The familiar action was soothing, and something he could do without needing to dwell on it, allowing him to drift and lose himself in memories of the Cajun and their time together. He knew rationally that his behaviour was neither helpful or healthy, but as things stood he was caught between the grief he was yet to allow to manifest fully, and the horror of the devastation he had caused following his discovery of Remy's state. Lamenting on his fate, he didn't notice the figure appearing from the doorway until they made their footsteps more deliberate, forcing him to look up to tell them to go away, only to find Magneto staring back at him.

  
"What are you doing here?" he spat, scowling at the man in front of him who observed him unblinkingly, hands clasped behind his back.

  
"Lorna and Wanda called me, Pietro. They are concerned about you, and looking at you I can tell their concern is warranted." Magneto answered, his tone betraying no emotion as to how he felt about his son's state.

  
"Well that makes sense, doesn't it? Father's favourite girls pick up the phone and he just comes running to meet their need, even if it is to check on the disappointment of a son," the speedster shot back bitterly, tucking Remy's cards into the pocket of his Serval hoodie.

  
"Pietro..." Magneto started, then shook his head. It was best to leave that issue for another day. "This half mourning state has gone on long enough. You need to face up to what's happened."

  
"Who the hell are you to tell me that?" Pietro spat, getting to his feet and standing opposite his father, fists clenched in his rage. "I decide how long this goes on and it is none of your damn business whatever happens! This is mine to deal with and nothing to do with you so go back to your pathetic mutant supremacy ideals and your little band of delusional followers and your telepath friend and leave me the hell alone!" Pietro snarled, his eyes alight with a rage that Magneto recognised and sympathised with. He had felt the same once before and left a path of destruction in his wake following it.

  
It seemed he and Pietro were more alike than either of them cared to admit.

  
\--

_  
With Lorna and Remy clear, Pietro turned his gaze onto the Purifiers, a twisted snarl of disgust crossing his features. They were only given a fraction of a second to recognise this pure hatred they were faced with before he was gone, running at top speed to slam into insurgent after insurgent; breaking bones and bruising severely as he made his path through the group. He had one goal in mind and anyone who stood in his way would be bulldozed through._

_  
Panic entered those surrounding him as they realised the danger they were in. Those who cared more for their lives ran, abandoning the field as this pure force of hatred surged through their ranks, causing the very Earth to tremble with each touch of his foot. It was seconds before he reached those in charge of projectiles, Purifiers enhanced with super strength._

_  
"Which one of you threw it then? Own up to your good work," Pietro spat, venom dripping from every word as the Purifiers faced him. Two of the rank broke away, running with a scream about the force they were facing. Three more dropped to the floor cowering and hoping his attention did not come onto them, which left the single man unafraid and refusing to back down._

_  
"Mutant scum need to be cleansed from the Earth. Be grateful I did it quickly. If you miss him so much, I can help you join him," the Purifier mocked. Pietro's lips quirked upwards in a twisted facsimile of a smile._

_  
"Oh no, you genetic dead end. I rather think maybe you should join him," Pietro sneered, lashing out smacking his hands onto either side of the Purifier's head. For the other's it was instantaneous that the man who dared faced the formidable force exploded into atoms, but for Pietro he had the grim satisfaction of feeling himself increasing the speed of all the molecules in the flatscan's body until he exploded under the pressure, disintegrated into nothing, which was more than he deserved._

_  
With the main perpetrator dealt with, Pietro turned his rage on the army around him. In a flash, he had moved from the spot he was standing and instead ran circles around the Purifiers, his rage pushing him to speeds he would not even think to use in a rational state of mind. The result was a vortex-like creation surrounding the entire Purifier army, creating a vacuum and draining them of air, until one-by-one they began to fall, crashing to the ground first in light-headedness, but all too soon choking and gasping for air until their bodies fell still. Only after the last man fell did Pietro turn his back to the mass slaughter he had left behind him, and run to Lorna and Remy. When his sister looked at him, she did not need to ask. She knew they would not find a man alive._

  
\--

  
Magneto observed his son calmly, before voicing his thoughts aloud. "I think it became my concern when it involved my family. Also the fact that you were spurred on to create such destruction in the name of homo superior."

  
"I am nothing like you!" Pietro snarled, taking a step closer to his father, "So do not take this as an opportunity to compare us. I was attacked by a Purifier cult and dealt with the threat. Nothing more or less. Now leave me. Otherwise I'll be forced to deal with you too." He left the threat to hang in the air, turning his back to Magneto, hoping he'd take the hint.

  
"Pietro you need to grieve. Before that rage inside consumes you." Magneto stated evenly, not moving from the spot where he stood. The speedster growled in frustration and wheeled round, fury melting into his expression, twisting his mouth into a scowl.

  
"Just get the hell away from me! You care nothing for me! You cared nothing for my relationship with him! And you certainly do not have any right or reason to tell me how to deal with this! What would you know anyway about how I'm feeling, you didn't even pay attention to know enough that we were serious!" The more he shouted, the angrier he got, allowing his rage to consume him. In his state he was no longer thinking rationally and he raised his fist, aiming it for Magneto. A fight would help, a chance to pour out all that anger or even just be bruised enough to make his physical pain outweigh his emotional pain.

  
"I know you loved him."

  
The comment was quiet and calm enough to jolt Pietro into reality, aborting the punch heading for his father. "Love wasn't enough to save him. Love doesn't stop him being gone - didn't stop him leaving me - dying -"

  
Gasping for breath to calm the sobs threatening to escape him, Pietro felt his legs shaking, unsteady and unable to hold him. He allowed himself to sink to the floor, heaving in shaky, shallow gulps of air as he tried to force it away, put the grief to the back of his mind. He felt a warm weight fall onto his shoulder and he looked up to see his father looking at him with sad, understanding eyes.

  
"Let it out, Pietro. Do not lose yourself to grief, he would not want that for you." Erik offered quietly as he stared at his son's broken expression, the speedster's eyes glistening with unshed tears. He could only stare back in understanding, his thoughts drifting to the dark place he'd ended up after he'd been forced to watch Anya die. He did not want the same for his son. His words seemed to sink in, and finally Pietro let his head fall, resting on his hands, his body trembling with loud, grief-stricken sobs. Erik held his boy's shoulder until he quietened to hushed whimpers. He may not be a good father, but he could be there for this.

  
\--

  
_When they arrived back at Serval Industries, Lorna turned to Pietro, taking in her brother's bloodstained clothing and hands, then glanced at Remy's body peacefully rested on the stretcher. The only thing marring the image that could be the Cajun at slumber was the arrow shaft sticking out from his body._

_  
"Pietro we need to decide how to play this. What to tell Harrison." Lorna urged firmly, trying to catch the speedster's attention and pull him from wherever he drifted. Pietro blinked and turned to Lorna._

_  
"Tell him what you like. I have a call to make." he shrugged, voice empty as he wandered over to Remy's body and as gently as he could pulled the deadly projectile away and placing it on a tray for analysis. "Get him cleaned up and looking himself." he added and then strode to his rooms._

_  
Once there, he shut the door behind him and grabbed his phone, punching in the combination of numbers he'd watched Remy hit a number of times. He'd never said he had the number memorised as Remy had never offered it to him, but he suspected the Cajun knew - had known - anyway. Stopping himself getting lost in his tense change, he listened to the phone ring and the person on the other end pick up._

_  
"Remy?"_

_  
"No, Jean-Luc. It's Pietro." he answered quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed._

_  
"Why's Remy no' callin' me himself, Pietro? He don' usually ask yo' t' make de calls." Jean-Luc asked, and Pietro could already hear the suspicions in his voice. Taking a breath, he prepared himself to confirm a father's worst nightmare for his son._

_  
"Remy can't make the call. He... there was a situation and he took a hit." he paused, hearing the sound of something on the other end of the line crashing to the floor. "It was fatal. I -" But he broke off because no amount of apologies or excuses would ease the blow._

_  
"De person responsible?" Jean-Luc asked quietly, his voice thick with held back emotion, much like Pietro, attempting to hold it together for appearances sake._

_  
"Disintegrated. Nothing more than atoms. I made sure of that." Pietro stated, his voice clicking the ending 't' sound with a sense of finality, before he added: "You should probably come by to make arrangements and collect any of his things you want before Snow attempts to 'be helpful', as he puts it." A hint of disdain entered his voice at the mention of Harrison Snow, but before Jean-Luc could question he hung up the phone, throwing it onto his bed and staring at his hands. Even if he managed to scrub Remy's blood from them, he'd never stop seeing it. That was his price for failing the Cajun._

  
\--

  
Staring at the gravestone in front of him, Pietro swallowed back a sob. He'd shed his tears, and was working on getting on with his life. Since his Father's visit he had been able to admit how deeply Remy's death had affected him, and had begun to pull himself back together, but the Cajun lingered in his mind. He'd been visiting his grave for about a fortnight now, missing the odd day here and there when he'd arrived only to find Rogue, Jubilee, Laura or Logan standing where he had intended to. He just wasn't ready to share his grief yet, even though they would understand how destroyed he felt, particularly Logan. When he did manage to arrive, he'd stand for ages and complain about the team; how Warlock was like a lovesick puppy for Danger, or Lorna was nagging him again about the cats, or how Harrison seemed to get more shifty by the week, or even how he was fed up of Alex calling him and expecting him to come running. Just anything and everything that he could snipe and be sarcastic about, before he'd fall into a lull of quiet.

  
Today, however, he had nothing to say. The rest of the team had let him be, going off to enjoy their downtime in the their own ways. Alex hadn't called, and even Harrison seemed less shifty than usual (though Pietro was still keeping an eye on him).

  
"You left too soon." he murmured quietly, out of the blue, when the silence became deafening. "We had so much more to look forward to... I should have been quicker. Should have stopped it. Then I'd be able to tell you. To your face I mean..."

  
He trailed off, looking round the graveyard to make sure he was alone, not wanting anyone to hear such personal things. They were between him and Remy only. Once his eyesight was back on Remy's etched name he spoke again.

  
"I love you, Remy. Still do, you damn Cajun. I should have told you sooner." he murmured, digging his hand in his pocket to pull out a playing card. As he stood there, he let his hands follow the taught motions till instead of the card, he was holding an origami frog. Crouching down, he found the small tin he'd placed at the edge of Remy's grave and deposited the frog in there to join the myriad of other origami creatures and things he'd made on his visits.

  
"Down to 41 cards now," he laughed sadly, a rogue tear escaping his eye and sliding down his face. "So get your ass back here and come and tell me off already. I know you hate the fact I'm destroying one of your decks, but I'm not going to stop until you make me," he hissed, turning his head away from Remy's name and taking a calming breath. Only when he was sure that he had himself under control did he turn back to the gravestone and stand.

  
"I'll see you tomorrow, with another ruined card," he murmured and brushed his hand against the top of the gravestone, before he shoved both hands in his hoodie pocket and sped away. He knew that he should stop waiting for a miracle and just leave Remy where he was, but he'd known stranger things to happen. And he just couldn't deny himself 52 days of hope. When the last card was ruined to become something else, then he would let go of that tiny bit of hope inside of him telling him there was a chance, but till the cards fell he would allow himself this one sliver of misjudgement. After all, people allowed themselves to do stupid things for love.


End file.
